


Drain

by Never laugh at a live Sherlock (smaugholmeswatson)



Series: Inktober 2018 [21]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood, Elemental Magic, Gen, Inktober 2018, Mages, Missing Scene, One Shot, Scenes of torture, Series, Short, World of the Magi, established universe, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 04:55:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaugholmeswatson/pseuds/Never%20laugh%20at%20a%20live%20Sherlock
Summary: This is a missing scene from the World of the Magi series I am writing.Sherlock wakes up alone and terrified tied to a chair in a abandoned warehourse. What could Moriarty have in store for him?(If you have read 'Under your Spell' you will already know what is going to happen, but it doesn't matter if you haven't read it. This is a story that stands up on its own).





	Drain

This was not how things were supposed to go. Trying to quell my rising panic I tug experimentally on the ropes tying my wrists to the hard metal chair. I quickly give up and hang my head. It's hopeless. They are simply too tight and I have a sinking feeling they must be laced with iron because there is a hollow emptyness where my power should be. 

The worst part is that I have no idea how I got here. One moment I was about to enter Baker Street and the next I am tied to a chair inside an abandoned warehouse with no idea what could have happened. I am also shirtless, something that both concerns and confuses me. And my surroundings do not offer any clues. There is literally nothing here... Then, from behind me, comes the sound of footsteps. I tense, feeling horribly vulnerable without access to my power, and resist the urge to crane my neck back for a look. I will be coming face to face with them all too soon after all. 

The person takes their time, obviously wanting to savour the moment, and the tension quickly becomes unbearable. I actually find myself willing them to step into the light so I can see them. When they do however I swear loudly, an icy shiver of fear running down my spine. This is not going to go well for me. By earth I hope John and Mycroft are already looking for me. If they aren't... Well lets just say I can not see me getting out of this alive. Suddenly me not wearing a shirt makes a horrible kind of sense. 

A smug smile spreads across Moriarty's face. "Hello Sherly, long time no see." He sings in his lilting voice as he circles behind me. I feel myself begin to shake. Please tell me this is all a dream I am going to wake up from at any second! 

"What do you want, Moriarty?" I demand, trying to keep the obvious fear from my voice. Graffiti Magi are the most sadistic and cruel of all the Modern Magi and there is no way I am coming out of this unscathed. Moriarty has always hated me and I think I am about to pay dearly for it. 

Moriarty lightly runs a fingertip down my right shoulder blade and I instinctively flinch away from him. He lets out a soft chuckle. "I've been trying to get my hands on you for years. At every turn you have foiled my plans and humilitated me and I intend to make you pay for that in blood." He says, his breath warm against my ear as he leans in close. 

My body begins to shake as fear takes over, sweeping through me and destroying any rational thoughts of escape. I swallow hard. Without being able to access my power there is nothing I can do to stop Moriarty from hurting me. It is a thought that, frankly, absolutely terrifies me. 

"Nothing to say in response, Sherly? It's rare for you to be lost for words." Moriarty taunts. The fingertip on my shoulder begins to press down harder and quickly becomes a shock of intense pain. I grit my teeth but it isn't enough to stop a whimper from escaping. Something hot trickles down my back and I realise with horror that it is my own blood. A wave of sickness washes over me. "I shall make sure you never forget me." Moriarty hisses, slowly running his fingertip along my back in a long looping signature. 

The intense pain becomes a constant dull burning as Moriarty slowly carves his name into the flesh of my back, humming to himself faintly the entire time. Towards the end, as he is doing the second R, my grip on consciousness grows a little hazy. Suddenly the pain is all I am aware of, seeming to invade my every nerve until all I want to do is scream at him to stop. Graffiti Magi are masters of ink magic and are able to permantly mark someone's skin against their will. Once the ink of a Graffiti Magi is beneath your skin there is no getting rid of it. As Moriarty said I will not be able to forget him in a hurry. 

I think I must black out for a while because the next thing I know Moriarty is slapping me hard across the face to wake me up again. I suck in a startled breath and find myself tasting blood. 

"Wakey, wakey Sherly! I want you awake for every moment of this." He says with a rough edge to his normally pleasant lilting voice. "It's no fun if you sleep through it." There is a madness in his eyes that I really don't like the look of, and the knife he is pulling fron his pocket does not look all that great either. 

Knowing there is nothing I can say to change his mind I hang my head in defeat. The pain in my back is an constant ache now and I find myself fighting against a wave of nausea. Maybe I'll pass out and save myself a lot of agonizing pain... The expression on Moriarty's face however suggests there is no way he will allow that to happen. He wants me to suffer through every second of what he intends to do. 

I let out a shaky breath, trying desperatly to still my pounding heart. I don't want Moriarty to know how afraid I really am. It doesn't work if the grin on his face is anything to go by. "I am going to enjoy every second of this." He says, resting his fingers against my chest. 

After that I am aware of nothing but a white hot pain invading all my senses. Despite praying for unconsciousness it is a long time in coming... 


End file.
